


Under the Mistletoe

by Imagination_Parade



Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: Christmas Eve, F/M, First Kiss, Humor, Mischief, Mistletoe, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 22:59:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5516426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imagination_Parade/pseuds/Imagination_Parade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Library knows what's going on between Stone and Cassandra. He sees all the looks, the smiles, the gentle flirting. Now, Christmas is approaching, and before the festive season is over, the Library's going to make sure those two end up under the mistletoe every time the opportunity presents itself. Maybe all they need is a gentle nudge in the right direction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under the Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas Eve (and happy Baird's birthday) to all my LiTs out there!
> 
> This one was inspired by, of all things, a shirt I saw in the Disney Store. Mickey and Minnie were kissing under mistletoe, and the shirt read, "What Happens Under the Mistletoe Stays Under the Mistletoe." Well, we'll see about that ;)

The first time it happens, she’s the only one who notices.

He catches her in the doorway, the doorway of the Back Door, and then, after they untangle themselves from the unexpected collision of their bodies, they’re straddling continents. She’s standing in a snowy English alleyway in the dead of night; he’s out of breath, bathed in the warm glow of lights in the Library’s Portland headquarters, eight hours earlier in time.

“Oh, where are you…is it over?” she asks him, looking behind her quickly, her red curls bouncing against her wool-covered shoulders.

“No, no, I…” he answers quickly. A grin overtakes his face and he says, “I was looking for you.”

“Oh, okay, what’s up?” she asks.

He tries to explain what the problem is, but it’s clear the science involved is over his head, and her confused expression softens into an amused grin as he grows more and more flustered.

“You were at a university, you know,” she says. It turns out magic and schools definitely did _not_ mix well, be it in the hands of high school overachievers, college frat boys, or even doctoral candidates. “You could’ve looked it up in a reference book somewhere. You didn’t have to run all the way back here for me.”

“And then you woulda had to translate all the science babble anyway,” he says, matching her grin. “Face it, Cassie; I need you. Ain’t no way around it.”

Her lips purse together, though she can’t stop smiling, and she briefly glances away from him. She looks behind her again and says, “Are you coming?”

“I was gonna see if I could find Jones first,” he admits.

“What? He’s not with you?” she asks.

“Stormed off again,” he says. “Mutterin’ something about how we’re still insufferable and nothin’ ever changes.”

Cassandra giggles. “He’s still in the city. Nobody came through the Back Door while I was researching.”

“That so?” Jacob asks, a frown forming on his face.

“Just leave him be,” she says with a wave of her hand. He glances at her, clearly surprised. She cutely shrugs and says, “Sometimes it’s better when it’s just you and me. _Easier_.”

He grins at her again and leans a little against the doorway. “Well, I can’t argue with that.”

They’re left in the doorway between Europe and the Library, sharing a smitten gaze and a smile, when he glances down, rubbing the back of his neck, and something magically pulls her attention up above their heads.

There in the doorway, an unmistakable green plant has materialized in the space between where they stand. Smooth, evergreen leaves and a small cluster of white berries hang tauntingly from the archway, a red bow tied around the stems. He doesn’t seem to notice, but she does, and she knows it wasn’t there before.

She’d be lying if she said the idea didn’t intrigue her. Kissing him, that’d be one thing, but there, in the archway of the Back Door, their first kiss traversing space and time, countries and dimensions – there was an element of magic at play that had butterflies fluttering across her stomach for reasons other than the thought of what it would feel like to have his lips touch hers.

But then a rumble comes from just a few blocks away, and she knows it’s from the university. Duty calls. She grabs his hand.

“Let’s go,” she says, pulling him down the wintry streets of London.

************************

The next time it happens, she’s lost in her own world, and he’s the only one who notices.

It’s been _months_ since she’s had one of these spells – a hallucination so vivid that it sweeps her off her feet and lands her in his arms, but one minute, she’s trying to figure out a complex math problem while they’re doing research late at night in the Library, and the next, he’s racing off his feet to grip her waist before she crashes against the floor, papers fluttering to the ground in the breeze behind him.

She comes to moaning, clutching her head, and he scoots them backwards until she’s leaning half on him and half on the bookshelf behind them. Her head falls to his shoulder with a whimper, and he’s not sure if she’s about to cry because she’s in pain or because she’s so frustrated with herself for succumbing to the uncontrollable visions she thought she’d overcome.

He tries to look at her face, but her red hair is shielding her features from his worried eyes, and then, a little jingle that might be real or might be just in his imagination pulls his gaze skyward. There, on the underside of the book shelf above them, just above where her head rests on his shoulder, is a cluster of evergreen leaves and tiny berries materializing in a flurry of golden baubles.

_How the hell did that get there?_ he thinks, not realizing that the Library itself is the culprit.

Her head shifts on his shoulder then, and her glassy blue eyes meet his. Jacob’s arm is still around her waist, and it’d be so easy. It’d be so easy to just cup her chin, tilt her head a little towards his, and lean down to meet her lips in a tender kiss.

But she doesn’t know the mistletoe is there, and it’s late, and she’s upset, and that’s not how he wants it to happen. He wants to reach a place with her where he can soothe her with gentle kisses, but that day isn’t today, and Jacob wants their first kiss to be more than just comfort. Despite himself, he reaches out and cups her chin.

“You alright?” he mutters.

“Yeah,” she sighs sadly.

He drops her chin and helps her stand, leaving the plant forgotten and ignored on the shelf halfway off the ground. He rests a steady hand on her back and pulls his car keys out of his pocket.

“Let’s get you home,” he says kindly.

************************

The next time it happens, his glaring at the offending flora draws her attention up to it, too, and everything is awkward.

They’re in the Library’s kitchen, of all places, waiting for a pot of coffee to finish brewing. It’s early morning in the Library, and, as per usual, they’re the first two to arrive for the day. Cassandra had already started the coffee by the time Stone wandered in, so they lean against the counter, side-by-side, talking about nothing and everything all at the same time while they wait for it to be ready. He thinks he sees something out of the corner of his eye, and his head tilts up.

Hanging off a counter door knob is the mistletoe, same green leaves and white berries as before. When his eyes don’t immediately come back to her, and when he trails off mid-sentence, she glances up, too.

“Oh,” Cassandra says, her eyes growing wide.

“Yeah,” Stone replies awkwardly. Without thinking, he adds, “I didn’t think that would happen again.”

“Again?” Cassandra asks. She almost giggles in relief as she admits, “I didn’t think you’d noticed the last time.”

Stone grins, too. “I, uh…I didn’t think _you’d_ noticed last time.”

“Well, yeah,” Cassandra says with a slight shrug. She finishes with “In the door” at the same time Stone finishes her sentence with “On the shelf.”

“The door?” Stone asks.

“The Back Door, during the case in London?” she says, thinking she was reminding him. Then, a thought strikes her, and confusion colors her face again. “Wait, did you say something about a _shelf_?”

“Yeah,” Stone nods. “The bookshelf, when we were researching, and you…”

He trails off then, and Cassandra nods, knowing which night he means. She glances up at the mistletoe again and frowns.

“So this is the _third_ time the Library has put mistletoe above our heads in a week and a half?” she asks, making sure she has all the facts right.

“Seems that way,” Stone agrees. “Unless it’s happening without us even noticin’, too.”

“But why would it _do_ that?” Cassandra asks without thinking.

Stone smirks a little as she looks up again. He’s not sure if she really doesn’t know, or if she’s just playing the fool, but either way, it makes him doubt whether he’d get a good reaction if he gave into impulse, slipped an arm around her waist, and gave her a gentle kiss, so instead of doing any of that, he unconsciously takes a step back.

Time seemingly stands still, the eyes of the non-couple in the kitchen awkwardly moving from the mistletoe, each other, and the floor, until the coffee maker signals its completion, filling the slightly uncomfortable silence.

“Oh, thank god…” Stone mutters at the same time Cassandra declares, “I’ll get that!”

They simultaneously reach for the cabinet that holds all the coffee mugs (of course, the one that the mistletoe has claimed as its home) and their hands accidentally brush together. There’s a silent agreement to ignore the little spark they felt as their skin touched, and they both pull their hands back.

“I’ll just get the…yeah…” Cassandra stutters, spinning around to grab the coffee pot.

************************

The next time it happens, Colonel Eve Baird notices before either of them can, and she’s never going to let them hear the end of it.

They’re in the Annex, brainstorming about a case, and Stone and Cassandra are practically standing on top of each other, as they are wont to do. Ezekiel’s gone to the Library to look for a reference, and the other Librarians are huddled over the Clippings Book, rereading their original leads, while Baird thinks to herself at the opposite end of the table.

Baird swears she hears a small jingle and looks up just as the mistletoe is appearing in a burst of gold magic above Stone and Cassandra’s heads. The tension in her body suddenly gone, she bursts out laughing. Stone and Cassandra simultaneously look up at their Guardian, startled by her sudden change in demeanor, Cassandra’s eyes wide in a questioning gaze.

“Colonel Baird?” Cassandra asks. “Are you okay?”

The Colonel calms her laughter, and looks to the Library. “That’s hilarious, Ray!” she calls.

A sinking feeling in her stomach, Cassandra looks up, knowing what she’s going to find. Stone glances up, too.

“That ain’t for us,” Stone insists.

“It’s floating in mid-air above your heads!” Baird points out. She holds a hand out to the festively-dressed Cassandra and adds, “And Cassandra’s face is as red as Rudolph’s nose!”

The comment does nothing but deepen the color on Cassandra’s cheeks as she sheepishly looks towards the woman at the opposite end of the table. The man next to Cassandra is just as flustered as she is and looks between the mistletoe and the redhead, trying to come up with something to say in their defense. When words fail him, he simply walks off, choosing to just remove himself from the embarrassing situation.

Cassandra watches him leave, and, deciding that’s a good idea, follows his lead, heading out of the Annex in the opposite direction. She’s just about out of the room when she doubles back.

“ _Stop doing that_!” she hisses, waving her hand in an attempt to knock the mistletoe out of the air. Her hand goes right through it, the plant disappearing in a cloud of golden lights.

“That’s happened before?” Baird asks with surprise and a touch of delight.

“What? No!” Cassandra replies quickly. Baird’s face settles into a knowing gaze. Cassandra stomps her foot, puts her hands on her hips, and looks up to the Library’s ceiling. “I can get my own kisses, _thank you very much_ , so… _stop it_!”

With one final huff, Cassandra turns and stomps out of the room, arms against her chest, head thrown back in a juvenile groan. Baird simply chuckles again and shakes her head.

************************

When it happens the fifth time, they both stand under it, glaring at the plant with crossed arms and offended faces.

They’d been avoiding each other for that very reason. Baird witnessing it was bad enough, but god forbid it happen around Ezekiel, and constantly finding themselves caught under mistletoe with the other was stirring feelings neither of them were quite ready to decipher, so, in a silent agreement, they had been trying their hardest to not stand near each other.

Naturally, they first time they did, their paths crossing late one evening in the Annex, the mistletoe had popped right back into place above them, dangling by a red ribbon from the second-story mantle.

“Oh, this is getting _ridiculous_ ,” Cassandra had sighed, crossing her arms.

“ _Again_? Seriously?” Stone had asked, looking past the mistletoe to the ceiling, addressing the Library directly.

“ _Why_ is it doing this?” Cassandra had asked, her eyes fixated on the holiday plant.

“Well,” he’d said, deciding to find out once and for all where she stood. “I have been flirtin’ with ya for a little while now.”

Cassandra’s face had softened into a small grin then, though her arms had stayed crossed against her chest. “I’ve been flirting back,” she had admitted. He had grinned at her, too, and she’d looked up at the mistletoe again, saying, “But we’ll get there in our own time. Why force it?”

“The Library needs to mind its own damn business,” Stone had muttered, crossing his arms, too.

That’s how they found themselves standing face-to-face, staring at the plant, unsure of what to do next. They could just turn around and walk away, but…

“Maybe…” Cassandra starts tentatively, testing the waters. “Maybe we should just…”

“What?” Stone asks. “ _Kiss_?”

“I don’t think it’s going to stop until we do,” Cassandra says.

“What happened to getting there in our own time?” he asks.

“It could be like a _practice_ first kiss,” she proposes. “You know, what happens under the mistletoe stays under the mistletoe. Until we’re ready for more.”

She’s serious, and he finds that adorable, and his hardened glare turns into a smile. Her eyes find his as she finishes speaking, and she smiles, her eyebrows rising in an unasked question. His arms fall to his sides, and hers do, too.

“I guess it is tradition,” he rationalizes.

They lean in and softly peck each other’s mouths under the mistletoe. The kiss only lasts a moment and is barely more than a quick brushing of lips, but they’re both grinning when they pull away, a pink blush filling Cassandra’s cheeks. There’s an unmistakable jingle, and the mistletoe disappears in a burst of golden light.

************************

The last time it happens, it’s Christmas Eve, and they’re too caught up in each other to even notice right away.

They’re on their way out of the Annex, the site of Baird’s small birthday dinner party, and they’re stopped in the doorway that separates Portland from the magical dimension they now call home. It’s late and dark and cold, colder than they expected, and they have a bit of a walk to their cars, so they stop in the doorframe to button up jackets and slip on gloves.

“That was a nice party,” Jacob says as he fixes his coat.

“Yeah,” Cassandra agrees. “Who knew Jenkins could cook like that?”

“He’s been holding out on us!” he says, and Cassandra chuckles.

“It wasn’t as good as your cake, though. That was amazing, Jacob,” she says, tying a pretty scarf around her neck.

“Well, thank you,” he says with a grin.

“So whatcha doing tomorrow?” Cassandra asks, leaning against the door frame. “Going home in the morning, probably, right?”

“Oh, well…” Jacob stutters, his voice trailing off. His brow furrows, and Cassandra’s surprised.

“No?” she asks. “I thought you loved Christmas with your family.”

“It’s fun to see the kids and stuff, but Dad and I haven’t really talked since…” he says. “And you saw how he is.” Cassandra nods in sympathy. “So I ain’t sure. I sent all the presents home in case I wake up in the mornin’ and land on _no_. How ‘bout you?”

“Oh, you know, hot chocolate and Christmas movies and the obligatory call to my parents,” she says casually. “Nothing exciting.”

“Alone?” he asks, sadness at the thought of Cassandra alone in her apartment on Christmas overcoming him. “But you love Christmas.”

She nods and waves her hand as if to say it’s nothing. “I’m used to it,” she says. “I could go home if I wanted to, but…I don’t want to.” She laughs and says, “I think I have more fun because I _don’t_ go home.”

The mistletoe materializes in the doorway then, above their heads, as if to offer up an alternative plan, but they get there on their own.

“You could hang out with me, you know…if you want to keep avoiding your father,” Cassandra offers. “I have movies and candy canes and Christmas cookies, or we could even fire up the Back Door. See Christmas around the world.”

His lips curl into a smile at the very thought, though he’s not sure if it’s the thought of celebrating around the world or celebrating with _Cassandra_ that does it. “Well, wouldn’t that be something?” he replies.

“Think about it,” she tells him with a small shrug. “It’d be nice to have you there.”

A gust of wind blows her loose hair across her face, and some of it lands on her lips, sticking to the strawberry lip gloss she’d applied just before coming outside. She chuckles and shakes her head back as she brings her hand up to peel her hair away from her lips. When she does, she catches sight of the mistletoe.

“Oh my gosh, _really_?” she sighs upon finding the festive plant above their heads again. “I thought we were done with that!”

Stone looks up, too, and chuckles. “It’s okay,” he says.

“It is?” she asks. Up until tonight, he had been as frustrated with the mocking mistletoe as she was, and she briefly wonders what’s changed until his gloved hand lightly caresses her rosy cheek.

“I was gonna do this anyway,” he whispers, leaning in.

She steps in as he leans towards her, their lips meeting in a gentle kiss. Unlike their _practice_ kiss, this one doesn’t end as quickly as it begins, and Cassandra slips her arms around his waist in a hug as she lightly sucks on his bottom lip. They finally pull back, their mouths separating in a gentle smack, and Cassandra smiles, resting her forehead against his, her eyes still shut.

“I would _love_ to spend Christmas with you,” he says, caressing her cheek again.

“Then it’s a date,” she whispers.

It isn’t long before they’ve come together again, exchanging soft kisses in the doorway, beneath the mistletoe that spent the entirety of the holiday season nudging them, finally, towards one another. As they kiss, the mistletoe vanishes again in a flurry of gold magic, but Stone and Cassandra won’t notice its disappearance for a while because what happens under the mistletoe isn’t staying under the mistletoe anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I know it's a holiday, but a comment would make my day :)


End file.
